


Clint Barton and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Christmas Eve

by coulsons-hawk (allyoop)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Jokes, Bad Puns, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Crack, Dragons, Dubious Science, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Holidays, Hugs, Humor, M/M, Mystery, Pop Culture, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Swearing, Team Bonding, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, Wibbly Wobbly Timeline, hugs for all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-09 02:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5522594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allyoop/pseuds/coulsons-hawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A holiday adventure with the Avengers in which nothing goes right on Christmas Eve; a dragon destroys an island, two boys from Brooklyn go missing, and all Clint Barton wants for Christmas is thirty minutes of peace on earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clint Barton and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Christmas Eve

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays guys <3

Clint had already decided that today was An Awful Day. A few more pints of lost blood and it may rank as Worst Day Ever, but so far the team had only suffered minor flesh wounds. The Avengers regrouped, feathers and glitter still in the air, and decided to call it a day. Let someone else clean up the mess; that’s why Tony has an Ungrateful-Citizens-and-their-Attorneys fund. It never seemed to deplete and thank goodness for that; today’s misadventure was going to require gold bricks worth of money to keep people from complaining. After a quick debrief Clint waved his team goodbye, shaking off another wave of glitter as he did, and headed to his Very Secret Apartment hoping to lick his wounds by himself with a couple beers and his DVR of _Dog Cops: The Christmas Bark-tacular_.

He dug out his car key, grateful for the numerous pockets in his uniform, and ran a hand through his hair one last time. He really didn’t want his car covered in the awful sparkly stuff, looking like a bunch of fairies went on a rampage (which wasn’t so far from the truth). His car roared and sputtered until it decided to roll slowly away from the curb. Making a mental note to take it in to the shop, he headed home feeling a drop of genuine happiness warm his heart because this day was finally over.

With only a few blocks left to go, his car started wheezing. _No no no, not now, not today!_ She wailed like a bad high school metal band, sounding like a million things were going sideways at once. Clint turned hard over to the curb, fingers crossed that she had just enough power to make it away from the traffic on the road. The crunch of his tires against the curb was drowned by a very loud, very _final_ sounding clank from his engine. He sniffed the air and half-fell half-rolled out of the driver’s seat. He smelled burning. At a safer distance away he watched as his trusty car shook hard, a battle of good and evil seemingly waging inside her metal hull. Another clank and she was still.

Clint saw no smoke or fumes, and deemed it safe to return to her side. Placing a gentle hand on the roof, he felt the urge to give a proper send-off. “Farewell car, who used to be shiny and nice. You served me well and so thanks for that, even if we could never really buff out all those bullet holes.” He glared at a curious passerby as he walked in the general direction of his apartment. _Silver lining,_ he thought, _at least I don’t have to fight for a parking space again._ He amended his mental note from ‘take car to shop’ to ‘borrow car from Stark indefinitely’ and rounded the last corner to his place. He was oddly happy to see those familiar dirty bricks and dusty windows, made slightly cheerier with the addition of haphazard colored lights.

He climbed the familiar stairs to his apartment door and dug around in his pants pockets searching for his keys. He couldn’t find them. Keeping his breathing steady, Clint tried to systematically go through each pocket, but his long day wasn’t allowing him to be calm about anything right now. He pulled out change, wrappers, old ticket stubs, and countless tidbits that had no reason to still be in his pockets. And _goddamn!_ his uniform had a lot of pockets. Clint retracted all previous compliments and mentally cursed whomever designed the stupid thing, because _who would ever need a zipper pocket on your inner thigh?!_ He felt a creeping paranoia, just edging around his peripheral vision, as if someone was watching him right now and laughing. If there really was a super villain that made you lose your things, Clint was sure he would lose in a battle against him. He stared sadly at his front door, knowing that no one was there to let him in from the inside even if he knocked. And of course, even with his deep need for his own place and desire to keep it simple, once SHIELD discovered his apartment they had swept in and outfitted his doors and windows with the most indestructible locks on the most unbreakable frames and nothing Clint could do would change that. Good ideas always backfire around him. He punched his door out of frustration, something he would never recommend again because _frickity shit OUCH that HURT!_ and he heard a metallic _fshhh_ , a click, and then an echoing klaxon rang in the hall.

“No! I’m not trying to break in! I used my fist and I’m just frustrated and _why am I trying to reason with a door?!_ ” Clint saw two options here; ye ole classic fight or flight. Clearly, SHIELD technology is too sensitive and really needed to take a chill pill, but he didn’t want to wait around to see what else happened when that alarm rang. The door started to glow subtly red and Clint’s decision was made. He hightailed it out of there, fishing his phone out (thankfully he didn’t lose _that_ amongst his numerous pockets), and left his dignity in the dust.

It rang a couple times and then he heard a click. “Hey, Stark? I know you and I tease, tickle, and sometimes taser each other and it’s all in good fun even when its not, but what I’m trying to say here is I need a favor of the ‘getaway car’ kind or perhaps the ‘place to hide’ thing and I-“

_“-not on my phone right now ‘cause I’m too busy science-ing or saving the world so leave a message at the tone. Or call Pepper, she actually listens to voicemails. -BEEP!”_

“Are you serious Stark? What could you possibly be doing that is more important than a team member in peril –oh fuck is that a siren? Did someone call the cops? I don’t look that suspicious- okay well I’m still covered in blood and glitter and- oh god, Stark I need a favor so call me back as soon as you can. _Seriously_. Call me.”

Clicking his phone off a little too hard, he decided that the first thing he needed to do is _cover his leather ass up_. Running around in a purple and black (let’s just call it what it is) catsuit is fine when he’s standing next to a giant green guy, a flying Ferrari suit, and a God of Thunder/L’Oreal hair model. But for the streets of New York? He was pushing the boundaries a bit. He ducked into the alleyway between his apartment and the next, praying one of his old neighbors still had the habit of hanging the laundry out to dry. Unfortunately, the pickings were slim.

Clint reemerged from the alleyway feeling like this day had officially become some Guinness Record of ‘how many terrible things can happen to one person in a day?’ The only clothing close to his size that also wasn’t a lady’s underthing was a garish oversize Christmas sweater, complete with a reindeer and 3D blinking nose on the front. He had managed to turn the nose off, thank goodness, but he didn’t count his blessings yet. Clint was 90% sure he looked like a grandma’s worst nightmare, pairing an ugly holiday sweater with his black leather pants and Grinch-like scowl. Fetching a pillowcase from the clothesline, he sighed. There wasn’t much else he could do but walk to the nearest subway station and hope he didn’t look too suspicious carrying a large pillowcase barely concealing his bow and arrows.

“ _Hello_ , Santa baby.” He heard called out at him.

Clint whirled around. “Hey, I’m not-“

A wry smile stopped his words. He never thought he’d be grateful to see that flash of red hair again.

“Barton what are you wearing?” Natasha gestured with a look of disgust at his attire. “No, don’t bother. We’re needed.” She started down the street and Clint hurried after her.

“Nice to see you again, Natasha, long time no see, how have you been? You know, all those niceties friends say to each other when you reunite after _two months?!_ ”

She grinned at him. “Oh, we’re friends now? Must be a Christmas miracle because if I recall correctly,” She jabbed a finger at him. “And of _course_ I do. The last conversation we had ended with you swearing on George Lucas’s life that we were sworn enemies due to our wildly differing opinions about the new movie.”

“J.J. clearly stands for Jar-Jar.” Clint mumbled under his breath. “But that isn’t the point. It’s been two months since any of us have heard from you! Where have you been? How many regimes have you overthrown now?”

She sent him a withering side-eye. “I don’t do that anymore. And anyways, it was extremely classified. You-“ Her glare melted into humor. “Are definitely not the right clearance level. Where did you find that lovely sweater anyways?”

“I was trying to blend in.”

“And what a wonderful job you did. That blinking nose is the most subtle attire I’ve ever seen.”

He glanced down. Sometime during their walk the light must have been jostled and turned itself on. “Fuck this day, really.” He jammed the off switch with a little more force than necessary, mangling poor Rudolph’s nose in the struggle.

“Aww, Clint.” She linked her arm through his. “I will buy you a cup, no, a _mug_ of coffee when this is all over, but unfortunately this is not a social call.”

“No.” He knew that tone of voice.

“ _Clint_.”

“No! Seriously, it’s only been ten minutes since the last mission. It is Christmas Eve, please don’t tell me we-“

“Cap’s been kidnapped.”

His stomach fell. Here he was afraid of more work when his teammate, his _friend_ , has apparently been captured. He felt like shit.

“What’s the plan?”

Natasha pointed towards an unmarked black car parked ahead of them. “Get in and we’ll talk mission.”

 

\-------

 

Turns out it was more complicated than she had summed up. Immediately following the battle debrief that morning, the Avengers had disassembled to their various homes, finally ready for a quiet Christmas Eve. Steve and Bucky, new boyfriends (old boyfriends? Clint wasn’t sure how it worked with the whole accidentally-frozen-for-a-while thing) had declared their intent to disappear to someplace warm for a while and that was the last the team had seen of them. Bucky, showing that he was the level-headed one in the relationship, had stopped by SHIELD on their way to the airport in order to grab a few ‘in-case-of-emergency’ devices since traveling with Captain America usually led to skirmishes you didn’t mean to find. In the fourteen minutes it took for Bucky to walk into HQ, meet with an agent, and pick up the briefcase of goodies, Steve had disappeared. Call it love or just intuition, but Bucky had rushed outside sensing danger. Steve and the car he was driving had both vanished into the air, leaving a dwindling blue portal behind like a shadow. So what did Bucky do? He jumped into the rapidly shrinking portal like a fool, leaving SHIELD to panic in his wake. At least he had brought a briefcase of SHIELD tools with him.

He mentioned as much to Natasha as she drove to Avengers tower.

“I’m glad they’re not empty handed too,” She pulled up beside the secret side entrance of the tower, rolling her window down enough for a light to quickly scan her retina. “But this is still a Class Six emergency. Remember the last time we dealt with strange blue portals?”

Clint couldn’t stop a little shiver from rolling up his spine. He tried to readjust his focus on the mechanics of the brick wall in front of their car, folding in on itself until there was room for the car to pass through. “This is familiar. Why is this familiar?”

“Pepper likes Harry Potter.” Natasha pulled into the underground garage and parked. “And Tony likes taking jokes a little too far.”

They walked briskly to the nearest elevator, letting JARVIS scan and welcome them, before shooting upwards into the main building. Despite all the usual cloak and daggers spy stuff, Clint felt himself relax a little. With all the time he’s been spending in the Tower lately, it really has started to feel like a second home.

“Ah, Widow.” Tony was standing in the middle of the room, a hundred screens and charts projected in front of him. “Glad to see you in one piece. How was Spain?”

“I wasn’t in Spain, but if I was, I’d report that is was rainy.” She glanced around. “Just us three?”

“Big Green is probably left on a yoga retreat, or a SHIELD mission, who knows. I sent Fly Guy back to the scene of the crime and-“

“What did you call me, Stark?” Sam’s voice crackled out from one of the screens before Tony. “That isn’t even a decent nickname.”

Tony flicked the screen projection with a grin, watching it roll aside in the air. “Newbie doesn’t get nickname input.”

“Hey man, I’ve been here for over a _year_ now, Scott on the other hand-“

“Shhh, comms are for checking in, not for chat.” Tony hit mute on Sam and turned his attention back to Natasha and Clint. “As I said, I sent him to double check SHIELD’s analysis with a few of my inventions since they’re generally superior at finding things. Thor has rainbow-dashed back to Asgard to make sure blue and portal doesn’t add up to Loki. Again.”

“When are we just going to kill the dude?” Clint grumbled. “At least in a way where he _stays dead_?”

“Revenge aside,” Natasha read a few of the screens floating in front of Tony. “It seems like the energy signature is earth-sourced, not Asgardian.”

“Right you are, Widow. JARVIS, can you pull up video?”

Clint and Natasha watched as Steve, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the radio, was suddenly sucked downward into a whirling portal on the road beneath him.

“Half-speed if you please, JARVIS.” Tony glanced at Clint. “Or did eagle-eye spot it yet?”

Clint was too relieved to quip back at Tony. The portal was definitely not of Loki-origin. “It’s a bomb.”

The video, now slowed down, made it obvious. Just before the portal erupted on the ground below the car, there was the distinctive motion of a cylindrical object dropping from beneath the car and exploding outward in blue light.

“Actually it’s a intra-terrestrial displacement-rift generator, but sure let’s call it a bomb.”

“It was planted on the car.” Natasha stepped in front of Tony. “JARVIS, do we have video following the car during its entire route?”

“Already skimmed the whole thing, Widow.” Tony slid his finger on the screen, rolling it all the way back to the image of Steve picking the car up from SHIELD HQ. “There’s nothing that tampers with the car between the time Steve picked it up and when the portal was released.” Anticipating her question, Tony raised a hand. “And I checked the footage for 86 hours before Steve picked up the car and have yet to find any evidence of someone planting the bomb. You walked in before I could go further back.”

“Steve doesn’t drive.” Clint piped up. Tony gestured at the car on the screen with a raised eyebrow. “I mean he doesn’t _usually_. He has that motorcycle he loves and takes everywhere. Whose car is this?”

“It’s a generic SHIELD rental.” Tony typed something into his keyboard and another screen popped up. “He reserved it a week ago, according to the paperwork. JARVIS, scan all footage from the week. Tell me if anything jumps out at you.”

“Are you thinking an inside job?” Natasha jumped in.

“Not sure.” Gesturing at the screen, Clint continued. “Steve used a code name and it’s not like there aren’t easier ways to send him through a portal. Like why not just stick the bomb on the motorcycle he parks right in front of his building?”

“Because _he_ wasn’t the target.” She turned to Tony. “Who reserved this car before Steve?”

He pulled up the paperwork on screen. “There was someone who had this car on retainer for about two months before Steve. It was never taken out of the garage but the paperwork kept getting renewed. Sounds like some agent couldn’t make up his mind what weekend he wanted to take a vacation.”

A twinge of intuition stabbed Clint in his gut. “What was the name?” He barked out.

“Calm yourself Barton. The car was reserved for a Mr. J. Timberlake.” Tony narrowed his eyes. “Well that can’t be right.”

“Oh _shit_.”

“Clint?” Natasha met his eyes. “Is that-?”

“You missed a lot in two months.” His voice was weak. “Phil and I were planning on a weekend away and then we had a dumb fight and I guess he must have kept the reservation even while we were ‘on break’ and – _ohmygod-_ I feel like a fucking idiot.”

“ _Phil?_ As in Coulson?” Tony interrupted Clint’s rapidly sinking heart.

With a comforting hand on Clint’s shoulder, Natasha explained. “Timberlake, as in ‘Suit and Tie’, also known as what Coulson wears? Come on Stark, you’re supposed to be the smart one.”

“Yeah, I got that far, but Phil and Clint-? When did-?”

“We’ve been on and off for a long while.” Clint muttered, patting his pockets half-forgetting what he was looking for. “After he miraculously returned alive, he wanted to get serious and I’m so bad at serious. I fucked it up like I always do and-“ His hands alighted on the phone in his pocket. He dialed the familiar number immediately.

“ _The number you are trying to call is disconnected, please hang up and-“_

“Call it in,” Natasha ordered Tony while fishing out her own phone. It flashed with an incoming call before she could type in a number. “Yes?” She answered. After a second of listening, she switched it over to speakerphone.

“Can you guys hear me?” It was staticky and one warble away from being completely unintelligible, but it was clearly the voice of the missing Bucky Barnes.

“We’re listening.” Natasha spoke. “Fill us in.”

“Glad this SHIELD radio works. Steve and I are okay… somewhat. He’s a bit busy at the moment.” There was a loud roar heard on the line and Bucky laughed incredulously. “I know I haven’t been part of the team for long, but I didn’t think dragons were part of this job description.”

“Is he huge and green? Prone to throwing people when he’s angry?”

“Stark you just described the Hulk.”

He rolled his eyes. “Taller than the Hulk; _huge_.”

“Ah-“ There was a pause on the line. “Yeah he’s pretty damn tall. You know this thing?”

“Fin Fang Foom.”

Clint gave Tony a look of disbelief. “ _What?_ ”

He shrugged. “I didn’t name him. But I have battled him once, back when the Mandarin was still doing nutty things like hiring dragons and filming reality TV show pilots.”

There was a loud crash and Bucky let out a string of swears. “Looks like Steve might need a hand after all. The dragon is chewing on his shield.”

“You guys are on Monster Island. We’ll be there in-“ Natasha glanced at Tony inquisitively.

“Jet can get us there in twenty. Hold tight Barnes, your rescue is coming. Oh, and watch out for-“

There was another loud roar and Bucky shouted. “It can breath _fire?_!” And the line went dead.

“They’ll be fine.” Tony shrugged. “Fin’s usually a sleeping giant but it sounds like someone woke him.” He zoomed in on the video feed from Sam. “Falcon, meet us at the Avenge-jet. We’re headed to Monster Island to deal with a little lizard problem.”

“And Phil?” Clint tried to keep his voice calm. He failed.

A light flashed on one of the screens and JARVIS spoke up. “Sir, there’s an encrypted call from SHIELD on the line. Would you like me send them to voicemail as per usual or-“

“JARVIS, patch them through.”

“Agent Stark,” Tony scowled at that. “Let me start by saying how honored I am to actually get to speak to Iron Man, this is really-“

“What’s your name? Actually, no, I don’t care. Okay Agent Josh-“

“That’s not my-“

“ _Agent Josh_ , you are calling to tell us that our esteemed SHIELD director is missing and we’re needed at HQ.”

“Yes but-“

“We’re already dealing with a Fin Fang Foom problem and a mysterious displacement rift that kidnapped Cap and Barnes.”

“Wait, what-“

“Who is your commanding officer, Agent?” Natasha interjected.

“Uh, Agent Maly.”

“Where is she?”

“Good plan Widow, let’s find someone with sense.”

“She’s uh, well see that’s the problem sir. Ma’am. Uh-“

“Fucking tell us already! Phil could literally be _dead_ -“ Clint choked on his words a little. Natasha gave him a look that was half comforting and half a warning.

“Some phone call came in, or at least that’s what Agent Howard told me, and a big emergency meeting got called. Most of the level fours and above went, and then the room disappeared, and uh, there’s a lot of chaos right now.”

“Blue portal suck up the whole room?”

“Yes, how-?”

“Remember we have a portal problem of our own. So we’re assuming all the Agents got sucked up together?”

“Seems that way Mr. Iron Man- I mean, Agent-”

“This is great!” Tony shouted. “Honest to goodness Christmas miracle.”

“What the _fuck_ , Stark.” Clint glowered at him. His happiness was definitely not appreciated.

“Barton this is the best case scenario we could hope for. Coulson and company are on Monster Island as well.”

“Are they?!” Agent Josh sounded relieved. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“It’s literally called _Monster Island_.” Clint mumbled. “How is that not horrible?”

“Agent, round up whomever you can and bring as much dragon-fighting power to the coordinates we’re sending you now. Widow out.” The line clicked off and Tony moved towards the door.

“Well, come on guys, we have a jet to fly.”

“Really?” What Clint was really asking was hanging heavily in the air.

“Look, my science confirms it. This displacement-rift generator is rudimentary as best. The portal creates a one-way trip and the end point was the same both times: Monster Island. Now why someone was this determined to get Coulson to the island is news to me, but-“

Clint ripped his ugly holiday sweater off with glee. In all his worrying over Phil, he had almost forgotten he was still wearing the demented looking thing. He pulled his bow from the pillowcase like a leather-clad Santa bestowing a gift. This day was starting to look a little better.

“I call shotgun.” He grinned. 

 

\-------

 

They got to the Island in less than eighteen minutes, much to the delight of Tony and his never-ending brags. Clint hadn’t heard a word of it; he was twitching with adrenaline and couldn’t sit still the whole flight.

“Never thought I’d say it, but fighting a dragon on a tropical island sounds like a pleasant Christmas Eve.” Sam flashed a grin at his team members as he stepped off the jet. “This is vacation compared to a New York blizzard.”

Clint barreled out past him, eyes searching the beach where they landed.

“He’s out there somewhere.” Natasha appeared at his side. “They all are. Speaking of which-“

“On it.” Tony’s helmet slid closed and he shot into the air. A few moments later he dropped to the ground. “There’s a path of torched palm trees going further inland. I can only assume its Fin Fang Foom, because how many other fire breathing dragons do we know?”

“What direction?”

“North-east, headed towards the mountain ridge. If we fly I think we can cut him off.”

“Fly?” Clint groaned. “Please tell me you’re talking about the jet. Or a kite, or anything but-“

“You know navigation is like the Bermuda triangle down here. We have no choice but to do this the hard way.”

“I call Sam.”

“Dammit, Natasha!” Clint dragged a hand down his face. There was no escaping one of his least favorite things in the world: being carried like a doll through the air by a metal idiot who didn’t know the meaning of ‘please fly smoothly’.

Iron Man strode up to him and Clint was sure there was a grin under that damned shiny mask. “Hold tight, Hawkeye.”

 

\-------

 

On the plus side Clint didn’t get hit by any of the trees that skimmed dangerously close to him as Tony swerved through the jungle towards the dragon. On the down side, this was a _giant_ dragon.

He roared and flashed his claws, swatting at Sam as he flew past his nose. Natasha flipped out of Sam’s arms to perch on Fin Fang Foom’s head, holding onto his horns as he tried to buck her off.

“How did you defeat him last time, Stark?” Clint yelled as he ran towards the triple-Hulk-sized dragon before him.

“Well for one, he wasn’t this big last time I saw him. Or this angry. Usually he’s pretty intelligent, almost beat me at poker one time when-“

“He’s being mind controlled.” Natasha called out from his head. “We need to knock him out.”

“Knock out a giant dragon? That seems reasonable.” A voice spoke from behind them. Steve Rogers appeared from the trees, looking quite worse for the wear but grinning. “Can’t be harder than Hitler, right?”

“Steve that joke was funny _once_ and it was sixty years ago.” Bucky grumbled beside him, clothing looking thoroughly singed.

“Glad you could join the fight boys. We need some strength for this next plan.”

“Not our fault we’re late Stark, we got separated from the dragon when part of a building fell on us.”

Clint spun around and grabbed Bucky’s arm. “ _What?_ A building? Did it look like a SHIELD room?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes and shook off Clint’s grip. “I don’t know, _Barton._ We didn’t get a good look since _it fell on top of us_.”

“Obviously it didn’t fall hard enough because you’re walking around being rude and-“

“Hey.” Steve stepped between them. “What is going on, Clint?”

He took a deep breath. “Phil’s gone.”

“Gone how?”

“The whole SHIELD meeting room got portal’d off to here. And apparently landed on you. Was there anyone- did you see-?”

“There wasn’t anyone else but us in the wreckage.”

“That means they’re still alive somewhere.” Ah, there it was. That tiny glimmer of hope that Clint’s heart had been clutching onto.

“ _Hey!_ ” Sam half-landed, half-fell in front of them with one wing a little on fire. He tossed Steve his shield. “I got your shield from out of the dragon’s mouth, now can you _please_ lend a damn hand to this fight?”

“Tony, you said you had a plan?”

“It’s crazy but it just might work.”

 

\-------

 

Several net arrows and one vicious Steve Rogers somersault™ later, Fin Fang Foom was unconscious and no one was badly hurt. A question still hung in the air.

“So…”

“Shh, one second Barton.” Tony finished scanning the dragon’s sleeping body and landed beside his mouth. Looking extremely displeased, or as much as he could while still in the armor, he reached an arm into Fin Fang Foom’s mouth. After a moment of rummaging he pulled out a metallic object. “A-ha! The thorn in the lion’s paw, so to speak.”

“That was controlling him?” Steve stepped up to examine it. “It doesn’t look-“

“It’s crap tech, really. A copy of a copy, kind of like that portal bomb. It’s clear we’re dealing with someone who is fond of stealing other people’s plans but doesn’t quite have the smarts to implement them correctly.” Tony groaned.

“It’s Hammer isn’t it?” Natasha crossed her arms. “When are you and Hammer going to bury the hatchet so he doesn’t keep doing idiotic stuff like this?”

“Don’t you start; I get enough of that from Pepper.”

“But why would Hammer want Phil anyways? And how does he even know about Monster Island?” Clint was angry again. One step forward, two steps back.

Steve gestured at the tech in Tony’s hand. “Can you trace the signal back to the source?”

“It’s obviously a short range radio, and with the wonky magnetic field on this island, he can’t be hidden too far.”

“Sam, if you please-“ Clint was getting sick of waiting; he needed to do something himself.

Sam lifted him up into the air. “Tell me when.”

Clint tapped his arm when he felt he was high enough. From his new vantage point, he could see a vast majority of the island. There was a clearing of trees where of the wreckage of the meeting room had landed. A smoking trail led to where the dragon was now sleeping, and a short ways further in the distance he saw it. “Let’s land.”

Once his feet touched solid ground again, Clint immediately took off in the direction he knew was right.

Natasha was the first to follow. “Find what you needed?”

“There’s only one sheltered place on this island that is near enough for a radio signal and still be undetectable by aerial scans. The mountain ridge has a cave system; you can see some openings by the way the trees grow around them.”

Tony zoomed up ahead of them. “It’s possible the cave structure is made of a mineral composite, or at least reinforced by a man-made camouflage one, and that’s why they didn’t pop up in my scan.”

“Your tech isn’t perfect, Stark.”

“In the spirit of Christmas I’m going to forget you said that.”

They reached the mountainside and Steve jogged up beside Clint. “We should split up, that way we can cover more cave routes at once.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary, boys.” Their eyes followed where Natasha was pointing. Clint felt his surroundings blur and he rushed forward, blindly determined to climb the rock wall himself. In one of the cave entrances was the unmistakable form of Phil Coulson, SHIELD director and sorta-maybe boyfriend of Clint, waving to them from above.

A hand on his back suddenly lifted him into the air and deposited Clint rather ungracefully in the cave. Tony landed between them but sensing the awkwardness, he flew back out of the cave. “I’m no relationship expert, but it looks like you guys need to talk.” He disappeared downward, presumably to pick up the rest of the team.

Phil looked at Clint with an indecipherable smile, and Clint felt a million things at once. He had been an ass last time they saw each other and definitely said some things he regretted; but this was _Phil_. His handler, his friend, his unquestionably steady rock even in the hurricane that was Clint’s life. He wanted to hug him, or touch him at least, just to make sure this was real, but instead he stayed where he was, feeling too awkward to move.

“I hear you fought a dragon.” And there it was. Phil’s genuine smile: the warm one that Clint used to think was reserved for him. He couldn’t stop himself from pulling Phil into a sudden and messy hug.

“Yeah,” He breathed against Phil’s neck, the smell of his cologne and crisp white shirt mingling in that familiar way he loved so much. “But Fin Fang Doom was more like Fin Fang Snooze, amirite?” Clint shook with a combination of laughter at his own dumb joke and something like a dry sob.

“That was awful.” Phil ran his hands up and down Clint’s back, retracing old memories. “I thought we agreed no more bad jokes in my presence while we were dating.”

“You secretly love my jokes.”

Phil leaned back in Clint’s arms until just their foreheads touched. “I do love them.”

Clint’s rapidly growing smile started to fade. There was still so much unsaid. After a long pause he spoke again. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“I _know_ , and I’m sorry too. But,” Phil extracted himself from Clint’s hug and gestured around the cave. “We can’t talk just yet.”

Steve, Bucky, and Sam were standing off to the side, chatting and determinedly trying not to eavesdrop while Natasha had been clearly watching them with one eyebrow raised. Clint shot her a quick thumbs-up and he spotted a flicker of relief in her expression. _Aww, that softie._ Clint thought. _She totally cares._

“Not to break the happy reunion up,” Tony walked forward from where he had been deeper in the tunnel. “But I think I need some team input here.”

With one hand hovering near Phil’s, still indecisive whether to hold it or not, Clint followed the rest of the team further into the cave. The overlapping noise of conversation grew louder as they approached. They entered a cavern, glowing with twinkling lights as the crystal stalagmites and stalactites reflected the many flashlights of the now-found, and rather happy looking, SHIELD agents.

“This is oddly beautiful.” Sam spoke, and pulled off his Falcon goggles. “Kind of like Christmas lights.”

Natasha flashed him a rare smile. “Merry Christmas guys.”

“Well actually, it’s still only 11pm New York time, so technically-“ Tony stopped himself under the combined glares of Steve, Bucky, and Natasha. “Okay Avengers, Merry Christmas it is.”

Clint grabbed Phil’s hand, the Christmas stars in his eyes making him feel reckless. “You think we can try again?”

Phil squeezed his hand in answer. “Sure. Right after this one thing.” He turned to the rest of the team. “It wasn’t Hammer.”

Tony shrugged. “I had surmised that much. Hammer’s an idiot, and this is the work of a _smart_ idiot.”

“Do you have any leads, Phil?” Steve looked around the room. “It doesn’t seem like there’s any reason to bring you all here. There’s no lab equipment, no tech anywhere.”

“You’re not going to like this answer, but I have no clue. We felt ourselves pop out of the portal, still in the room, as it was falling towards the ground. Then there was another flash and we were all in here.”

“Something saved you from crashing? Was it the same portal that brought you here?”

“It wasn’t a portal this time. It felt like a…” Phil looked at a loss for words. “A pull. Like something sensed our danger and physically pulled us from the air. I think we may be dealing with two forces here; one that tried to kidnap us and one that successfully saved us.”

“We determined that you were the specific target, Phil.” Natasha said. “The first generator was planted on the car you reserved.”

Phil glanced at Clint. “That car was for us. To drive to the lake house for the weekend.”

“Oh,” Clint felt guilt creep around his edges again. “That would have been nice.”

“Have you guys considered,” Tony laughed halfway through his sentence. “I can’t believe I just realized this, but is it possible that _both_ of you were the target, Barton included? The rift bomb had a good forty minutes before it went off, which would ensure it was well outside the SHIELD garage so the target was probably just you two.” He pointed at Clint. “Now you’re no high level SHIELD director, but you have to admit you _do_ have a lot of crazy enemies.”

Clint closed his eyes, his mind racing faster than his heart. “How long until backup gets here?”

Natasha glanced at the time displayed on her phone. “Knowing the chaos that SHIELD is in right now, probably not for another half hour.”

“Can I ask for thirty minutes for Christmas?” He looked around at his team members. “A silent half hour to think about _absolutely nothing_ and just stare at the lights. We can deal with this madness after that, okay?”

Natasha stepped forward and grabbed Sam and Tony’s arms. “I can do that.” She winked and strong-armed the two towards the rest of the agents, despite Tony’s protests.

Bucky grabbed Steve’s hand and started pulling him aside to a quiet corner, a grin twinkling in his eyes. Steve turned back to Clint with the beginning of a flush on his cheeks. “Merry Christmas you two.”

Phil waved as they walked off. “Same to you.” He smiled at Clint. “They’re cute.”

“I think Bucky is glad there’s finally no cameras anywhere. The paparazzi have been awful since they announced their relationship.”

“Dating can be hard in this line of work.”

Clint sucked in sharp breath. He knew that to be painfully true. “Look, Phil-“

“Weren’t _you_ the one that wanted to think about nothing?”

He chuckled and tucked his head against Phil’s shoulder. “Stop being right all the time.”

“Shhh, Clint. Just look at the stars.”

 

And so they did, eyes bouncing around the room, following the paths of sparkling light as flashlight beams hit crystals and bounced into rainbows in the air. It was beautiful. Phil was beside him, Clint’s hand was warm in his, and some SHIELD agents broke into merry song. Finally, even after this disaster of a day, Clint was starting to feel like it was Christmas after all.

**Author's Note:**

> There *may* be a part two in the new year ;) Like all good Marvel things, I left an opening for a sequel.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated as always <3


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